Love is Fire
by kc creation
Summary: Ven has a secret admirer and he's not quite sure what to make of it.


**Love is Fire**

Ven thinks of the vast amount of sights he's seen and the hundreds and thousands of enemies he's defeated. He contemplates the more unorthodox of his adventures: from his mini-trials with Cinderella to flying with Peter Pan and the feisty little Tinker Bell, he's always assumed that he'll be ready for anything, but now…

He's not so sure.

It's not so much that he's in an impossible situation, because if he's absolutely positive about anything, it's that he _must_ have covered this in his training at one point (because their master would never _dream_ of leaving even his most inexperienced of students unprepared), but in all honesty, he must have been sleeping of daydreaming when they'd went over it because… He's simply at a loss for what he's expected to do.

The offending little furball—a tiny, generic unversed—titters as nervously as an embodiment of darkness can, as it stares up at him with big, empty yellow eyes, and in any other situation, his keyblade would have already torn the pathetic little thing to ribbons, but it's not so much the unversed that's thwarting him as what it clutches in its claws—

One single, white rose.

It presents this gift to him for the third time since he'd stumbled upon it ten, twenty minutes prior, and finally, he resigns himself to his unusual fate and braces himself for any trap he's been stupid enough to get himself caught in, and reaches forward with hesitant fingers, plucking the seemingly harmless flower from the creature's grip.

"Uh, thanks?"

He chuckles warily, confused, as the unversed nods, almost as if it truly understands, and scurries into the surrounding greenery of the forest around them.

He sighs heavily, suddenly tired as he gazes into the canopy of trees that hangs overhead, twirling the rose in his fingers and realizing, more curious and aggravated than ever, that it's been stripped of its thorns.

"_What in the world?"_

A short distance away, from the gnarled branches of an old oak, golden eyes watch, pleased, as the young keyblader shakes his head, slipping the rose into his belt loop as he trudges through the foliage.

"You did a fine job, little servant." His husky voice purrs, vague admiration dripping from his voice like its usual poison as his gloved fingers rove through the unversed's cerulean fur.

It chatters, prideful of its master's earned affections, almost seeming to smile as the taller, molten-eyed figure smirks at Ven's receding back.

Even if it had been given the gift of vocal cords or the good sense to comprehend the oddities of the situation, the unversed wouldn't have questioned the man's motives, because, after all, _Master Vanitas's word is law._

"Let's go," He orders, rising from his crouched position and pulling his helmet over dark, unruly hair and translucently shimmering irises. Darkness curls about the muscles of his arms and legs, spreading like a coiling snake about him. "Xehanort will be angry." He notes matter-of-factly as the unversed bursts into a ball of black smoke.

He wonders, idly, as he eyes the spot where Ventus stood not five minutes ago, how long the rose will remain fastened to his lighter half's belt loop.

He likes to think that once the young keyblader finally_ does _return home, he'll keep it in a vase by his window.

He scoffs, reprimanding himself for such petty, _humanoid _thinking, but smiles nonetheless, as he remembers Ventus's abashed expression.

Maybe the young keyblader will be more fun than he'd originally anticipated.

_Fin._

_White roses are a symbol of purity and innocence, but also true love._

_I like to think of this as more of a "crackfic", simply because Vanitas is so horribly out of character. But, you know, not too long ago, I came upon a person who said, "Don't support yaoi! Think of how the characters feel!"_

_And I giggled, because they probably don't feel much of anything, since, you know, they're not real._

_But, as always: to each his own. _

_For anyone who celebrates it: Happy Easter! I, for one, will most likely spend the day catching up on my writing._

_Anywho, thank you so much for taking the time to read, and please feel free to leave a review letting me know what you thought!_


End file.
